


In the Navy

by hisquartermaster



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternative Backstory, Barebacking, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 17:27:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisquartermaster/pseuds/hisquartermaster
Summary: Most of the kids were not interested in whatever bullshit career opportunities he was telling them about, either fucking around on their phones or awkwardly flirting with one another. There was only one boy that seemed fascinated, not so much with the career in Navy, though, but definitely with Bond. The smartarse was gorgeous, which was lucky for him, as he was also irritating as fuck, with the know-it-all attitude and sarcastic comments muttered seemingly to himself.





	In the Navy

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by Momo

Commander James Bond’s Friday was shaping up to be a nightmare. It started with a call from his superior, urging Bond to come to the major’s office. Then, there was the bollocking he got for fucking Tom, his lieutenant. The fraternization rules were not something Bond had in mind when Tom offered to give him head, so he guessed he did deserve a reprimand. What he didn’t deserve, considering the lieutenant’s enthusiastic consent, was the torture he had to endure as a punishment. Being a guide for a swarm of teenagers, giving them a tour of Royal Navy Headquarters was  even worse than the one time he had to welcome US Navy officials while hungover. 

 

Most of the kids were not interested in whatever bullshit career opportunities he was telling them about, either fucking around on their phones or awkwardly flirting with one another. There was only one boy that seemed fascinated, not so much with the career in Navy, though, but definitely  with Bond. The smartarse was gorgeous, which was lucky for him, as he was also irritating as fuck, with the know-it-all attitude and sarcastic comments muttered seemingly to himself. 

 

“You, with the dishevelled hair, is there something you'd like to share with the group?”, Bond had had it enough with the constant narration of all his failures as a guide. Especially, since it was combined with the teen's hungry eyes on his fly.

 

Some of the adolescents started snickering and the object of Bond's interest muttered something sounding dangerously close to “you  magnificent prick”, which he decided to kindly ignore. It was really going to be a long morning...

 

The tour lasted forever, but finally the teacher thanked him for his service, the group left and Bond was allowed to leave the Headquarters for the weekend. On his way home, he decided to stop for a dinner at a nearby pub, grabbing a beer with one of his co-workers.

 

If there was one thing he didn't expect to find on his doorstep when he finally got home, it was definitely the smartarse nymph from the morning tour. 

 

“Hi there, Commander Bond. I hope you don't mind that I allowed myself into your personal files. I don't like to be indiscreet like that, but I thought you wouldn't want to talk about my proposition in the Headquarters... Come to think about that, I wouldn't exactly want to lose my virginity in some kind of a closet there...” Bond thought he must have been hallucinating. It must have been a weird wet dream or maybe personalised porn scenario. The mouthy nymph couldn't have been any more in his type, all big eyes, messy hair and lean body. Good Lord, he was standing in his doorway, with a teenage lad, who was dressed in school uniform and his cock was already stirring, from the mere suggestion that there was a possibility of deflowering the boy. “Though, I must admit it's a good thing that Tom of yours didn't mind fucking in the closet, it would be a shame if some other poor sod was our tour guide, I bet he wouldn't be as sexy as you. Oh, my name's Quincy, by the way”.

 

The kid had some major guts, one had to admit. Even if Bond could see him trembling all through his ballsy speech, it was still impressive for an 18 year old. He considered it for all of a minute, before unlocking the door and inviting the twink inside. The decision would probably come to bite him on arse sooner rather than later, but let it never be said that he didn't seize all the opportunities. 

 

“Ah-ah, kid. Show me your ID first”, he stopped the boy when he was halfway to his bed, which was situated near the centre of the open-plan apartment. “I might like risk, but I'm not fucking minors”.

 

“Don't you think it's kinda pointless? I was able to hack Royal Navy's intranet, surely you know how easy it would be for me to obtain a fake ID?”, the kid, God help him, looked honestly hurt by that. Nevertheless, Bond snatched a quick photo of the ID with his phone. If the kid turned out to be major genius in a minor's body, at least he'd have a proof of his good faith. He put down both the ID and the phone on the dresser and cautiously took Quincy into his arms. A pretty, clever boy like that deserved a Hollywood first time, even if just for the balls it took to find Bond's flat and inform him about his planned participation in Quincy's deflowering. 

 

The kiss was good. Quincy was kissing him back with more hunger that skill, pressing his lithe body all along Bond's, panting and moaning softly. There was no bravado left, only soft doe eyes, looking up at him between kisses and gentle hands, starting to wander on his back. On his thigh he could feel that Quincy was already hard as a rock.

 

“You're in luck, Quincy. I know what to do with my cock”, Bond whispered to the boy's (fairly red) ear, which he kissed for a good measure. He decided it was high time for skin on skin and started to undress Quincy. 

 

“Call me Q. I know that you do. Why do you think I chose you? I read Tom's e-mails”, Q cheekily muttered, all the while palming Bond's cock through his trousers and pants. “He wrote to some girl that you fucked him so good, it was well worth every reprimand”. 

 

“You are a cheeky little thing, Q. I think I need to teach you a lesson, boy. I'm going to suck your cock, until you're so over-sensitive that you’ll cry”.

 

The words had an unexpected result on Q. He tensed and shuddered, his boxe r-briefs visibly getting wet in the open fly of his trousers. The sight and the knowledge that he made the pretty little thing come with his words alone, made Bond's own cock twitch in his pants. 

 

“Oh God, please, please, I need it, gimme your cock, I don't care how, in my mouth, in my arse, just don't make me leave before I touch you... I swear I can get hard again in a minute”, Q pleaded feverishly and got red as a poppy the minute he realised how slutty he sounded. It was all too good to be true, it was almost as if someone decided to reward his tryst with Tom.

 

“Calm down, Q”, Bond dropped to his knees in front of the boy, lowering his wet pants out of the way and giving his belly first tentative lick. At the wounded noise Q made, he kissed his hip bone and continued to lick down, to the very head of Q's rapidly hardening cock (oh, to be a teenager again...) and up again, stopping to dip his tongue in the inviting crevice of the navel, straying to suck on a rosy nipple (which made Q whimper in a very enticing way) and all the way to the boy's parted lips. Q welcomed another kiss enthusiastically, moaning at the taste of his own spunk on Bond's tongue. 

 

Bond had had enough of foreplay for the next decade. The boy was sinful. He deposited the teen on the bed and went to grab lube and condoms. When he dropped them on the bed, Q blushed even more. 

 

“Could we maybe not use the condoms?” Bond almost choked on nothing, expecting a suggestion that maybe they could stick to handjobs and definitely not that. “I mean... I'm a virgin... and uhm... I know you're clean, after all I looked into your files...”

 

“I never knew I had such a pretty little stalker, you naughty boy”, Bond murmured kissing Q's neck and applying lube to his fingers. He was reasonably sure that the boy would not be a dangerous kind of stalker. And well, fucking him would probably be sweet enough to risk death. Bond never said he was not lead by his cock.

 

The sounds Q made when Bond's wet fingertips started circling his hole could be equalled only  to the face he made at the very same moment. The boy was really unbelievably beautiful, his delicate features framed by the raven curls, the green eyes open wide in a surprise at how good Bond was making him feel with barely a touch. 

 

Fingering Q could become Bond's favourite pastime. He was very vocal, quickly losing all inhibitions and trying to boss Bond around. Bond never really got the virgin kink some men seemed to have, but seeing Q discover his prostate was definitely making him see the appeal.

 

Pressing inside Q and drinking the pleasured moans straight from his lips was definitely a highlight of his erotic life. Q's legs around his hips, urging him on, Q's hands trying to grab his too short hair, Q's lips spilling satisfied sighs, Q's eyes staring up at him like he was something magical... It was all too hot, even if Q wasn't tight as hell. It was a good thing Q was definitely close again, because Bond didn't know how long he could go on.

 

He kissed the boy's neck while shifting his hips so that his every thrust hit dead on his prostate. He didn't even manage to get a hand on Q's cock, before the boy came, moaning like a lovely little whore. His tightening muscles milked Bond's own orgasm in almost no time.

 

For a minute, they stayed like that, trading lazy sated kisses, but all too soon Bond's cock slipped out, which was a signal for him to switch positions. Soon, he had Q's head on his chest, his fingers drawing circles on the boys back, the other hand petting his scalp.

 

“Won't your mother look for you?”, he wondered aloud, seeing as Q's eyes slowly drooped.

“Actually...”, Q suddenly had a fit of giggles, which almost made Bond roll his eyes fondly. “I told her it was a weekend-long school trip... to Paris. So I'm yours till Monday. If you want me, that is”.

 

So this is where thinking with his cock lead – to a weekend with  the sweetest fuck he's ever had. Not bad, not bad at all. 

 

***  
  


Driving to the National Gallery, where he was supposed to meet his new Q, Bond passed his old flat, the one where he lived before he became 007. Sitting in front of “The Fighting Temeraire” he recalled that and chuckled at the thought of a different Q he used to meet there. Funny, how sometimes his old life interlaced with the present...

 

Deep in thought he almost didn't notice the youthful figure sitting down next to him.

 

“It always makes me feel a bit melancholy. Grand old war ship being ignominiously haunted away to scrap... The inevitability of time, don't you think? What do you see?“

 

Turns out he really underestimated his pretty little stalker.

 


End file.
